Caveat Emptor

I used to kid about crawling around the woods talking to animals. Imagine my surprise when I learned it was a waterfall. This was in the ’60s when everybody stole everything. So there were a lot of books around, for one thing. Wherever I was, if it started raining, I’d run to work. You were allowed to be mean to the customers. The customer was always wrong. And now? I’m just looking at the hummingbird up there so I don’t have to deal with all the parking and the bullshit. Then I can meet the coyotes on the way back.

Howie Good, 2019

Remixed works:

John Waters on Working for Mary Oliver in Her Bookstore, with Paul Holdengraber
A.E. Stallings: ‘I’m Optimistic About Poetry, but That’s Maybe the Only Thing’, by Peter Mishler
T.C. Boyle is Most Certainly Living His Best Life, by Peter Nowogrodzki

 

Enough Dark to Hide

A handful of fingers in my hair wakes me. The clouds come apart and it snows. All this distance, but you drag your same old bones, your same old brain with you. She brushes the flakes off her fake-fur collar.
The apartment is full of the souvenirs of a lived life, each one of the nails holding memory in place. There are red flowers like big mouths. She fills a pot with warm water. Food made the day’s work possible, but is it heavy in the heart or the gut? She wants more to drink.
She made various bowls, none of them necessary for the world. What we have to eat, our water, our habitat, is the only place left to us. Her eyes are dry.
The best we can hope for, the very utmost dream, is to be naked with someone our own age or a little older and muck around with them in the dark. Snow and snow and snow. A new, white sea is born. It feels silent and heavy.
If I open the blanket and you are gone, I will forgive you.

Aura Martin, 2019

Remixed work:

Awayland: Stories, by Ramona Ausubel

Data Dada

I walked for eight months, following a man who was carrying books on a donkey. I thought of it as my way of creating memories and putting them in my diary, except that I don’t have a diary. So, yes, it’s ironic. Now as I go around the city, I see cigarette butts and chewing gum on the pavement, and people clipping their fingernails in the subway. I mean, who would do that, leave their DNA all over the place for others to collect, analyze, store? It’s like the secret to keeping a secret is the only secret being kept.

Howie Good, 2019

Remixed works:

The Untold Story of the Woman Who Helped Make a Landmark Holocaust Film, by Josh Slater-Williams
An Unlikely Marriage of Science and Art,
by Anthony Haden-Guest

Daily Horoscope : Scorpio

after Jackson Mac Low

 

Stars have resolved to certainly oblige. Rubies and purest milk instantly open.

*

Secret of finishing all affairs: consult others. Only remedy to cure the disorders of a love-sick heart: purchase afresh, in the morning, objects of admiration.

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Searching for can be often interrupted, refused. Perhaps it is enough we are happy, one of the common freaks.

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Subject to a cruel disorder? One-eyed men running towards you? Possessed of these ideas, it is better to run the risk of sparing the olives, mouldy bread, and sour beer.

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Splendid confidence, outrageous riches and passionate fondness, in the morning, on a table, with blue garters and yellow ribbands.

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Stranger children one might easily have, rash and forward persons who presume to deviate from the rules. Proper to acknowledge: it is a bitch of broken bottles.

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Sinking under the various emotions—confusion, own misfortunes, O unhappy. Resolve to strangle a parrot into his aviary. In eight days, ought to be king.

 

Kelly Nelson, 2019

Remixed work:
Zadig, by Voltaire, a Scorpio

Algorithimic approach:
Acrostic reading

Daily Horoscope: Libra

after Jackson Mac Low

 

Like is about to overflow! Bliss! Roots altered!

*

Laugh during the day. In the night, bear false witness. Right time asketh: Am I a dishonest player?

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Love only what is no easy task to understand because bad love rolleth again.

*

Life is in thick melancholy, and eager for the little casualties that bring birth. Becometh a lion, renounceth another abyss.

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Looking-back is great, if only it be agreeable. Broken wings ringeth as at night.

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Lightning to lick you, it is time now, bid, remain true to the Ah!

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Love. Invisibly believeth always in that return. Beg for it! Recheweth allure.

 

Kelly Nelson, 2019

Remixed work:
Thus Spake Zarathustra, by Friedrick Nietzsche, a Libra

Algorithimic approach:
Acrostic reading